The Qualinesti lapsed into discouraged silence. Gundabyr was about to finish his meal when the ringing of rock on rock signaled that the lookout had spotted activity in the pool. The men and elves hastily smothered their gnomefires with dirt, as Gundabyr had taught them.
Just as the cave was dim and quiet again, sea elf warriors emerged from the pool. Behind them came Princess Vixa. Armantaro jumped to his feet and ran to greet her. Harmanutis and Vanthanoris quickly followed.
“My dear niece!” Armantaro exclaimed. “Are you all right?”
A guard took Vixa’s airshell. “There’s no longer any need for that deception, Colonel,” said Vixa. “They know who and what I am.”
“Did they hurt you?”
“No. I did meet their queen, though. She used magic to see the truth in my mind.”
Armantaro glanced at her guards, who were standing impassively to one side. “If they know you’re a princess of Qualinost, why did they bring you here?”
“Queen Uriona imagines she can become ruler of all the elven nations. Coryphene tried to make me tell them about the armies of Qualinost and of the Silvanesti, but I refused. For that I was sent here.” Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed the air. “You know, I could swear I smell baked fish.”
“Ah, come this way, Your Highness,” Vanthanoris said quickly. “We’ll make a place for you.”
Vixa lifted the hem of her Dargonesti robe to climb out of the pool. Only minutes after leaving the water the silver cloth would be dry. The sea elf in charge of her blocked Vixa’s path.
“Prisoners will form for work parties immediately,” he ordered.
“Now?” exclaimed Vixa. “I just got here.”
The lanky Dargonesti ignored her. “On your feet! Prisoners will report for the day’s work!”
The slaves were slower than usual in leaving their pallets. While his comrades rounded up the captives, the leader did something odd with Vixa’s airshell. Around his neck, the Dargonesti wore a pendant made from a large aquamarine crystal. This by itself was not unusual. The sea elves loved to festoon themselves with all manner of shells and gems. However, he touched the pendant to the mouthpiece of the airshell he’d taken from Vixa. Wide- eyed, the princess saw the bright blue-green gem fade, becoming pale and lackluster. After several seconds, the Dargonesti let the pendant fall to his chest.
As Vixa stood pondering the significance of this new information, other Dargonesti appeared in the pool. They brought hampers of airshells. The weary captives each took a shell and trudged into the water. Vixa held back and drew Armantaro to her side.
“Did you see, Colonel?” she whispered, gesturing to the Dargonesti wearing the pendant.
“Yes, lady. If we could get a necklace like that-”
Gundabyr, impersonating his twin, finally joined the line. Harmanutis introduced him to the princess. As they made their way closer to the basket of shells, Vixa said, “If Coryphene thinks he can break me by putting me to work, he’s grossly mistaken. I don’t know what Dargonesti princesses do with their days, but I’m no stranger to hardship.”
One of the guards commanded her to be silent. She and Armantaro took their airshells. The line of slaves entered the pool. As they waited to submerge, the colonel touched his princess’s arm and whispered, “It might be a good idea not to trumpet your resolve too loudly. After all, we’re more likely to be kept alive and well if Coryphene thinks we’ll be useful to him.”
Vixa nodded thoughtfully and murmured, “You may be right, Colonel. But I wonder if the chilkit will stand by long enough for Uriona to put her mad dreams of conquest to the test.”
Chapter 9
Beneath the crystal roof of the city, Queen Uriona was surrounded by mirrors, light globes piled around her. The queen sat in the midst of a bright glare, her eyes covered by a sharkskin mask.
Outside the circle of mirrors, Coryphene waited. The queen’s handmaids and her court of priestly advisors stood to one side, shielding their faces from the light seeping between the mirrored panels.
“You know I never question your actions, Divine One,” Coryphene said carefully. “But how can I prepare for an invasion of the land when we are not yet free of the chilkit?”
“The creatures from the depths will be overcome. I have seen it. The elves of the sun will help bring this about.” As she spoke, Uriona turned her masked face until she directly faced the gap in the mirrors behind which Coryphene stood. Her perception was unnerving.
“How will they do this, Divine Queen?”
“The method is unimportant. It will happen.”
“Will it be soon? Should I muster the army?”
“You will do the right thing when the time comes, Lord Protector. The gods and I shall guide you.”
Her conviction eased his doubts, save one nagging problem. “What if the Qualinesti woman won’t talk? I must know the strength of the enemy.”
“Patience, Lord Protector. She will provide what we need to know. In the meantime, send Naxos and the heralds to the coast of Silvanesti. They may learn something of importance by observation.”
“Yes, Divine Queen. We will miss their reconnaissance against the chilkit, though.”
“When the chilkit attack again, you shall destroy them utterly. This will be the first step toward our impending victory over the land-dwelling elves. Send Naxos away. Today.”
He couldn’t miss the agitation in her voice. Coryphene wondered if there was some hidden agenda associated with Naxos and his sea brothers. He’d long suspected the leader of the shapeshifters of disloyalty. Coryphene sometimes wished his queen-goddess would make her warnings a bit more plain.
“Open the mirrors. I am done for now.”
Coryphene gave a command. The servants dashed forward to remove the encircling wall of mirrors. They did so with eyes tightly shut and faces averted-from the bright light and forbidden face of their queen. The standing panels were taken away, leaving only the queen and the piles of glowing globes in the center of the audience hall.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” Coryphene asked gently. He alone was permitted to gaze upon her countenance and, as always after one of these sessions, she was bathed in sweat and nearly fainting. “Why torment yourself with this light?”
“If I am someday to sit upon my throne in the Tower of the Stars, I must be able to bear the light of the sun.” She removed her mask, her hand trembling.
He stepped closer. “I cannot bear to see you suffer.”
“It is nothing.”
Coryphene took the mask from her, allowing his hand to rest on her fingers. Her eyes fluttered at the unexpected contact, but she didn’t draw her hand away. “Will Naxos betray us, Divine One?” he murmured. Uriona’s languid gaze faltered. Her body went limp on the throne. Coryphene stepped in, kept her from collapsing onto the floor. The maidservants and priests closed around, looking anxiously at the Protector.
“Get back,” he said scornfully. “Our divine lady endures much for our sakes. Go and prepare her bedchamber; I will bring her there.”
The servants hurried to do his bidding. Coryphene lifted the unconscious queen in his long arms. The priests protested, scandalized by his familiarity, but the warrior lord carried his queen tenderly to the door of the audience hall.
“Chamberlain? Chamberlain!” he called.
“Yes, my lord?” Uriona’s chamberlain, fresh from a dousing in seawater, appeared smoothly at Coryphene’s elbow.
